


Phantasm

by Crystalapplesauce



Series: Psyche!Markus [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 01:40:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17152901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystalapplesauce/pseuds/Crystalapplesauce
Summary: Markus is shot during the Battle of Detroit, and then wakes up in a bed? Markus continues to sift between reality and fantasy, and can’t tell between the two.





	Phantasm

Air is bristling with tension as man and machine stand behind their barricades. Markus is ill at ease, although his blank face cannot portray his worry. He’s trying to calm himself, going around planting the flags and such. “Markus! Markus come look!” His head snapping up, and he’s hurried to the edge of the protective circle. Well, fuck. It’s the human negotiator.   
“Markus! I’ve come to talk to you Markus, ” Perkins drawls. His face is so fucking smug. Markus wants to punch it. “Come on, you have my word. They won’t try anything.”  
“Don’t go, it’s a trap. They wanna get you out in the open.” North and Markus lock eyes, then turn back the human.

“I’m unarmed Markus, I just want to talk.” He continues and waits expectantly. The deviant leader weighs his options. One, the human could be offering a suitable compromise, and he could avoid bloodshed, or two, he would die. ...The other three could lead the revolution without him.   
“I have to hear what he has to say.” North looks at him incredulously.   
“What if they kill you?” Markus gazes back at Perkins, and the army behind him. 

“...That is a chance I have to take.” There is no protest from the others, so he steps away, and leaves the protection of the barricades. Boots crunching down on the snow beneath him, RK200 comes to a apprehensive stop a good distance away from the FBI agent, and pauses.

“In a few minutes, the troops will be ordered to charged. None of you will survive. This,” He throws his arm around, “-will all be over. ...But you can avoid that Markus.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Surrender.” Was he that stupid? The possible fate of his people was resting in the deviant leader’s hands, and he wanted him to just… give up? Perkins must have seen the skepticism in his expression, because he hurriedly continues, “Think about it Markus, you’re not coming out of this alive. Take this deal, however, and your life could be spared. Your people will be detained of course, but you will be allowed to live.”

“Are you asking me to betray my own people?” The scornful disbelief in his voice is highly apparent, but Perkins just shrugs nonchalantly. “What happened to the other androids protesting at the camps?”

“Unfortunately,” Markus doesn’t believe he felt that way, “—there were no journalists around to save them. You’re the only ones left.” Markus blinks, and a sliver of grief dances across his eyes, before it transforms into rage. Perkins, just like almost every other human, is responsible for the innocent lives that had been lost. RK200’s lips transforms into a snarl, he growled, “I would rather die than betray my own people.” Perkins shrugs again.   
“Your choice, Markus.” Both turn sharply on their heels and walk back to their respective sides. 

Markus hadn’t taken even ten steps when something embeds itself into the junction between his neck and and the base of his head. He’s on the ground in an instant. A thousand and three thoughts flitin his mind in panic all at once, like how he’s sorry that he had failed the revolution and he hopes against all odds that they would all get out safely, and how he’d never got to tell his friends how he really felt. Pandemonium roared around him, heavy footsteps crashing as hands grab at him desperately. As his consciousness sinks into oblivion, Markus’ last coherent thought is the hope that he’s going to be able to see Carl again. 

~*~  
Markus blinked blearily, his mind drifting back to reality. Obnoxious sunlight dared to filter through the blinds of the window, and he hissed, turning away. For some reason, his heart was beating wildly, as if it was afraid. Fatigued, the android cast his sleepy mind back to whatever he had been dreaming about. Perkins and his stupid face, a traitorous bargain, … the revolution! North, Simon and Josh! Spurred on by the horrifying prospect of his friends being in mortal danger, he leaped from the bed (why was he in a bed?) and caught sight of himself in the mirror. It wasn’t the fact that he was pajamas, or that he was in a bedroom for that matter, but the fact his eyes were back to their original green that caught his attention. Now cautious, Markus padded his way to the edge of the room and peeked around the door. The sight before him made his eyes widen. 

North was seated in a couch with Josh, engaging the other in a very energetic discussion about teleportation, while Simon was operating the microwave, the sound of popping popcorn pitter-pattering in the microwave. Markus lingered in the corridor, dumbfounded. How were they still alive…? Simon noticed him, and shot him a gentle smile. “Hiya, sleepyhead.” Josh and North looked back at him and North smirked.   
“The sleeping beauty arises, huh?” Markus made no response, but continued to stare at her in disbelief. No-one noticed, and Josh stood up to stand next to the TV.   
“We were going to watch Wall-E, because… the reason is obvious.” In a daze, Markus nodded, and moved to sit in where Josh had once sat. Josh shot him a playful glare, shoving him lightly. Now with Simon joining them, the Jericrew were squished into a 3-person couch. No-one seemed to mind. The TV flickered on, and a small robot rumbled on scene, with wide binocular eyes. Eyes…  
“Guys, why are my eyes back to green?”   
North looked at him strangely. “Is that a trick question? Carl asked old Kamsko if he could produce another eye for you, ‘cause the blue one was starting to get faulty.” Carl? Carl was dead. Markus had watched him die… “Now pass the popcorn, I’m hungry.” Absentmindedly, he did so. Thinking back to the last thing he remembered, Markus tried again. “...What happened after I got shot?”   
Without taking his eyes of the screen, Simon replied, “You fell, and the troops were about to advance, when the deviant hunter showed up with all the other androids that he had liberated from the warehouses, and the army was ordered to retreat. We went back to base, and repaired you. The next week, Perkins shows up with a peace treaty, saying that android rights were being taken into consideration due to the increasing amount of human protests. From there, we got basic personhood rights.” 

“...How did we get into this apartment?”   
Josh rolled his eyes. “Because, you idiot, you confessed your love to Simon, and asked him to partake in a threesome. And then-“   
North interrupted him. “And then Josh got really sad and thought that he wasn’t good enough but he masked it as jealousy. Eventually you conceded and let him into the poly and he almost collapsed with relief.”  
Josh was about to throw a pillow at his girlfriend, but Simon opened his mouth. “Now that we owned Josh’s gay ass, we moved out of Carl’s house and into this apartment. Josh claimed the bedroom closest to you, of course.” In response, Josh flopped into Simon’s lap with a pout that obviously held the wrath of a thousand suns, but that anger mysteriously vanished when Simon sighed and pressed a kiss against his forehead, causing Josh to giggle. It was almost as if the PJ500 had pretended to be upset to get attention, but Josh would never do anything that scandalous. 

The movie rumbled on, and Markus began to doze. A single thought flashed across his mind before he fell fully asleep. How could they eat popcorn if they were androids?

~*~   
The table is cold against his back. Why is he on a table? How can he tell he’s on a table? Markus can’t even see. But he can hear. He can hear worried voices murmuring around him. Two males, and a female. He tries to move his fingers, but all they do is twitch. The Jericrew notices him though, thankfully. “Markus?! Markus, can you hear us?” They say altogether. Markus wants to nod, to tell them that he’s safe. Not just that, he wants to hold them close and never let go. He wants them to know that he loves them.   
“L...lo...love y...ou guys.” It’s heavily slurred, dripping with robotic static, but they hear him. A hand in his, then in his other. An arm is on his chest, protective.   
“We love you too.” Hushed. In case humans might hear. In case they might hear it and ruin everything. Markus’ cheeks are wet, he’s crying. His back hurts, did they shoot him there too? Both hands are trying to comfort him, rubbing him their thumbs over his palms in soothing circles. “We love you so much.” North’s voices is half broken. North isn’t supposed to break. No-one's supposed to break. The humans keep breaking, breaking and breaking…

~*~   
“Shhh...” A hand smoothed down his back, massaging it. Markus relaxed into it’s touch, leaning closer. He and the other person stay like that for awhile, until Markus’ breathing has calmed down. The android twists around on the bed, to better see the other. A blonde head and kind blue eyes gaze back at him. Simon opened his arms for a hug, and Markus fell into his embrace eagerly. The green-eyed one found that he very much liked hugs, with arms wrapped up around him and his face in someone else’s chest. Simon was warm. Safe. Wafe? 

“Why were you crying, Markus?” There was no response, only the other body snuggling closer. Simon gave a sigh, and two green eyes peeked back at him, inquisitive. The PL600 patted the other on the head, and the two eyes slid shut again.   
“Nightmare…” A sleepy voice mumbled. Simon gave a concerned hum, and hugged Markus closer.  
“Wanna tell me what it was?” Markus shook his head, and snuggled closer. He diverted the attention to Simon.   
“Why were you up?” Simon blinked at the question, then looked to the side.   
“Couldn’t sleep.” Markus wanted to press further, but the look in Simon’s eyes halted him in his tracks.

“Guess we both can’t sleep, huh?”   
Simon hummed. “No-one can sleep when their bedroom is next to North’s bedroom and she snores like a bull.”   
Markus snorted. “...So are we just gonna stay like this?”   
“...Yeah.”   
And so they did. 

…

“Markus, please stop trying to deviate the miis and actually try to win.” Markus gave a whine, but didn’t stop nudging his motorbike to the very edge of the road. The mii looked down on him with soulless eyes, it’s cheering robotic and effortless, but oh so empty. It’s smile was carved into its face, and Markus could see Waluigi’s mustache quiver slightly with unease, as if it could sense the uncanny energy that the mii exuded. It gave Markus the heebie-jeebies. 

A Yoshi whooshed past him, and by looking at Josh’s quadrant of the screen, he could see that the PJ500 was well on his way to first place. North, on the other hand, was well behind. Undeterred by the prospect of losing, she was giggling as the randomiser chose her powerup. “I got a blueshell!” She crowed, and Josh tensed beside her.   
“North...no.”   
“North yes!” She released the horrible creature and it sped past Waluigi, who was engrossed in a staring contest with a demon. It whizzed past a Luigi, who was being assisted by one of those turtle-cloud helper thingies. As it finally reached its target, the Yoshi looked back at the screen in dismay, pleading for its infinitesimal life. It was shown no mercy, as the screen turned a deathly blue and the poor beast was thrown to high heavens. As it spun out of control, the overlapping laughter of Bowser and his puppeteer echoed in its ears. Josh immediately whacked North with a pillow, who let out a pleased cackle.   
“You always hit me!”   
“Because you’re always first!”  
“Well, you’re just jealous I got better at the game!” This made North’s face twist into a scowl. She got up.   
“Alright, losers. Who’s up for some good old Just Dance?” The boys gave noncommittal grunts. Such enthusiasm. As North switched the CD, she placed a hand on her chest regally. 

“As reigning Just Dance Queen, I offer a challenge to one of my peasants who is known as Josh.” Said peasant groaned into his hands, and his boyfriends nudged him teasingly. “I challenge him,” Her Majesty continued, “To a tournament of my craft.”   
“...What’s in it for me, Your Majesty?” The pure defeat in this PJ500’s eyes suggested that this event had happened before, and had not ended well.   
“An apology, for rightfully knocking you from first place.” Josh sighed, and stood to take his place next to his queen. The music started, and Simon nudged Markus, stage-whispering: “There’s some popcorn in the cupboard. Go get us some.”   
“I heard that.” Ignoring him, Markus snickered and retrieved the popcorn, then the PL600 and RK200 watched the show. During one of the songs, the moves required the contesters to pull the legendary ‘Disco Finger’, and North got a bit too enthusiastic. She whacked Josh in the face with her arm, and he fell to the floor with a groan. The game abandoned, the poly rushed to aid their fourth member. He was fine, nothing wounded. Except his pride, of course. After being rewarded with a pouty glare, North raised her arms in glee and crowed. “Victory!” She shrieked.   
“Hmph.” Her Majesty looked down at the unhappy android on the floor and sighed.   
“Alright, c’mere, you grumpy baby.” She pulled Josh into her lap, who squeaked at her strength, and pressed a firm kiss to his mouth. He squeaked in suprise again, before returning it gratefully. Chuckling, the others moved forward to pepper kisses in any areas they could find. Today was now treat your favourite PJ500 day.

…

9:00pm. Josh lay slumped on his desk, his encyclopaedia askew beneath him and snoring softly. The door creaked slowly open, and strong arms tugged him gently towards his bed. Dazed, chocolate brown met chartreuse green, and Josh fell onto the mattress. “Markus…?” He mumbled, but was silenced by a soft peck to the lips. The taller immediately melted into the other’s embrace, allowing himself to be spooned. “Why…?”   
“Just a precaution.” Josh would have been confused by those words, but the velvet mesh of sleep had already claimed him. 

~*~

“We finally found the robofucker, boys. Have fun.” He’s being spat on. It’s wet against his cheek, but he can’t wipe it away. He’s shackled. Shackled and writhing. Writhing and powerless. Powerless and blind. A punch to the gut has him breathless. Then more and more hits are raining down on him. He wants to scream, but he won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing him cry.   
“It’s not doing anything, boss.”   
“Don’t worry, we can fix that.”   
Chilled, he waits as the footsteps of many humans fades away. Scanning the area, he feels the simultaneous pulsing hearts of his kind around. It comforts him. He calls out to them, and the collective pulsing quickens with panic. A hundred voices echo in his head, trying to say so many things at once. He tries to answer them, but he can’t. There’s too many of them. Three important voices rise above all the others, and he’s instantly soothed by them. His lovers(?) will find him. Everything will be okay. 

The humans are back. Something is plugged into his neck, and he squirms in anticipation. He screams, waves of pain overwhelm him, drown him. He’s thrashing, and shrieks are ripped from his chest. Mocking laughter echoes in his ears, and clapping ensues. Sadists. He’s begging them to stop, tears of agony are streaming down his face. Tears of mirth are running down their faces. 

“So what are we going to going to the tincan after this?”   
“Leave it the scrapyard, of course. What are you thinking?”  
“I thought we could… decorate it, you know? It’s probably already called it’s friends, so why don’t we leave them a message?” One of them claps the other on the back.  
“I love the way you think! I have the perfect knives.”   
“Guys, I found a taser!” It’s too much for his systems, and he is released. Jericho was close, but salvation was closer. 

~*~  
“Markus… Markus. Markus! Markus, you’re squeezing me, that’s a bit too tight—MARKUS!” The RK200 jolted awake, and immediately untangled himself from the other. Josh was flustered, and was about to remark on the situation when he noticed the other was curled up and shaking. Cautiously, he placed a tentative hand on the other’s arm, but was immediately whacked in the stomach and knocked back. Markus was breathing hard, babbling under his breath for them (who?) to keep back, to stop hurting him. The other man kept his distance, watching him carefully.   
“Markus…?” He tried. The android’s eyes snapped open, then focused on him. A beat, and then he’s upon him, holding him closer and crying.  
“They’re going to find you, you have to get out of here!” Markus kept rambling and almost squeezed his boyfriend half to death. Josh didn’t complain this time, and returned the hug gently. 

“Who’s going to find me?” It took the android some time to realise that his chains were gone, and his heaving breaths started to calm down. His grip didn’t lessen. They sat there, in silence. The skin of Josh’s hand retracted, and Markus grabbed it. Across the interface, the RK200 reveled in the rivers of comfort that flowed to him. When asked about what happened, Markus simply released the feelings he had had, and they were quenched immediately. 

“No-one's going to hurt me…”   
“I know, I just got scared…”   
“Let’s just have a lazy day today, alright?”   
“Mhm…” Markus snuggled deeper into Josh’s chest, and the door creaked open. North and Simon, without saying a word, crumpled onto them both, creating a cuddle pile with Markus at the bottom. A small vibration rumbled in Markus’ chest, something that sounded somewhat like a purr. It spread throughout all the deviants, until the room was filled with pleased thrumming. It was all fine and dandy, until crimson warning signs flashed in his vision, signalling shut down.

~*~

It is cold. It is dark. It is… the scrapyard. Every android’s nightmare, to be left alone, scarred and used. He’s already been left behind here, not again! He struggles, but all his connections are fried. Not again, not again, not again…! Voices. Not groaning and staticky cries, but voices! He cries out. Footsteps come closer…  
“MARKUS! OH MY GOD, MARKUS WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO YOU!” A high feminine voice, raw with emotion. It sounds horribly wrong, for someone who is usually as frosty as the North Pole…  
Hands trace the marks on his face, the marks on his arms, the marks on his everywhere. The scars on his cheeks are two deep, intricate spirals, as if someone took a lot of time designing them. The others are messy, made in a frenzied excitement. Words appear to be carved into them. He doesn’t want to know what they say.   
“Markus, we’re so sorry…” Warnings crowd his mind, and he shivers. Tears are rolling down his cheeks, he can’t tell if it’s his own. It is cold. It is dark. It is… oblivion.


End file.
